


We are Chaos

by DamadiSangue



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: F/M, Post-Resident Evil 5, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:20:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28363047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DamadiSangue/pseuds/DamadiSangue
Summary: "Let me in, Alex." he repeats, modifying the virus in the form of a voluminous and soft tail.Alex lowers her hand, sitting on her heels."There would be no more secrets." she murmurs, studying him carefully."I know.""I may not like your thoughts.""Yours too."
Relationships: Albert Wesker/Alex Wesker
Kudos: 9





	We are Chaos

**My dirty dreams are filled with ghosts,  
drowning in a shallow puddle;  
my muck and mud is thicker  
than the quickest of my demons.**

The virus has unfolded his thoughts, hatched his ambitions.  
Power has made him a storm and now he _turns_ inside her like a sudden and voracious storm.  
Alex watches him open and close his fingers, concentrating on the small offshoots that stretch beyond his shoulders, from his back.  
"I think they are connected to your nervous system." she murmurs, brushing his vertebrae one by one.  
Wesker gives her a sidelong, quiet look.  
Alex kisses the back of his neck, letting one of the appendages of the virus curl around her fingers, along her wrist.  
"They become snakes, but I've seen them change into knives and even feathers. Your mind shapes them; your will makes them weapons or mere tools."  
"Once I managed to create a shield."  
Alex raises an eyebrow, stroking the space between his shoulder blades.  
"With the U.S.A. army. When they tried to evacuate the city."  
"Ah, right. Crude, but effective. You probably see yourself as an _offensive_ rather than a defensive force."  
Wesker inhales, letting the virus collapse into itself, then bursting open like the crown of a flower.  
Alex lifts her face, curious.  
"You could too if you accepted it."  
She stretches towards one of the petals, testing its consistency between the thumb and forefinger.  
"If you would let me in..."  
Alex stops mid-gesture, staring at him.  
Wesker holds her gaze, at the bottom of the pupil a request - _a plea_.  
"Let me in, Alex." he repeats, modifying the virus in the form of a voluminous and soft tail.  
Alex lowers her hand, sitting on her heels.  
"There would be no more secrets." she murmurs, studying him carefully.  
"I know."  
"I may not like your thoughts."  
"Yours too."  
Alex clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth, stiffening when something _crawls_ up her thigh, around her waist, then slides down between her buttocks - almost _inside_.  
She gives him a questioning, uncertain look.  
"I can't do it without you." he whispers, approaching - a new, iridescent heart in his chest.  
"If only you would allow me the _chance_ to do that, Alex: to _truly_ transform us into something unique, _connected_."  
Alex searches for his eyes, seeking in them for a lie, even the smallest one.  
Wesker breathes on her mouth, fondles the soft curve of her breast, cherishing hollows created by his bites.  
"There are other ways." she murmurs, a quick, excited roll between her ribs.  
Wesker smiles in her hair, baring his teeth against the tender skin of her neck.  
"I'm asking _your permission_ , Alex."  
"What if I say _no?_ "  
Wesker barely recoils, staring into her eyes - bloody and dense.  
Alex stands on her knees, listens to his mind confess - the virus _dancing._  
"It could be _more_ than that, Alex." he repeats, kissing her.  
"We could be One, the All." he says, welcoming her between his thighs - damp, still wet with both.  
"We could _die_ in each other, _live_ the same way."  
Alex opens her mouth, curling around his body like a pale, cold snake - a profile the virus had dressed in white and gold.  
"Let me in."

_Please._

Alex kisses him - accepts him, his plea.

_She frees him._

The virus opens up around them, Alex releases her own - she allows Albert's to extend deep into her thoughts, into her.  
Alex arches backwards; she _barely_ resists the new sensation, then accompanied it with a constant and soft roll of her hips.  
And he thrusts, Wesker; he lets every part of himself pour into her - hides the uncertainty of being rejected behind a languid embrace, in which their moans don't scratch or hurt.  
Alex stretches her arms towards him, draws him to her - she opens herself, the virus, intertwining them in a private, intimate space.  
And there is no longer the Tower around them, the Egyptian cotton sheets.  
There is not the constant murmur of the culiebra, the laughter of Irma - the breath of Mehen's children, the faint aftertaste of Hiro's bergamot candles.  
There is _nothing_ left but a boundless expanse of memories, thoughts, dreams, nightmares, hopes.

_Of them._

Alex groans, planting her heels in his lower back - the ramifications of the virus squeeze her, and envelop her as far as his mind reaches, not his hands.  
Wesker hides his face in her hair, leaves no space to divide them - he feels her nails in his shoulders, the wet sensation the virus gives him back, a natural extension of his being, of his desire.

_One the All, Alex._

And it's like dying.  
It's like _exploding_ ; having no more space in oneself and having to take refuge in one another - dilating one's mind, one's body.  
Alex arches backwards, releases a broken gasp, almost a moan.  
Wesker takes her face in his hands, calls her - _look at me, Alex: look at me._

 _I see you, Al: I've always done_.

The virus breaks the last seal, the memories of both of them in a constant, unfiltered stream - total, _**absolute.**_

 _They are whole, now_.

Alex's orgasm is also Albert's.


End file.
